Dead Stay Buried
by SilentConfession
Summary: He was dead that’s what they all thought. But as seventh year unravels, fates are changed and a dilemma that no one even dreamed of surfaces. When George Weasley attempts to right his wrong, was it really his fault or simply love waiting to happen.
1. Hope in a Letter

_This time, This place  
Misused, Mistakes _

* * *

Moving with slow awkward steps a young woman hesitantly moved toward a place she hadn't been to in so many years' years. The icy cold wind howled around her, blowing her thick hair out of place. Emitting an irritated groan she impatiently pushed the unmanageable masses securely behind her ears once again. Tightening her cloak she looked to the sky. Thick grey clouds promised rain later but for now the angry weather was held at bay.

Her eyes shifted back to her destination she felt the familiar pull in her chest. The smoky air that still clung to the air made her stop in her tracks reminding her of that fateful day. Involuntarily her eyes closed. For a moment his unwanted face popped into her mind, his soft smile started spreading across his face. The girls eyes jerked open and she pushed the long ago memory away. Taking a shaky breath in she forced herself to pick up her feet and start moving again. Her eyes grazed across the charred woods. The trees that once had been strong and full of life were now black and lifeless. The sight left an infill able hole in the pit of her stomach.

She tried not remembering how things had once felt, how things use to be. When the grass she was walking across was actually green and tall instead of crunchy and brown. Brushing her hand gently across a stone she felt the coldness of it soak through the tips of her fingers as she gently brushed her hand across the top. But she wasn't paying heed to this; instead they were fixed on something a few feet away. Suddenly her foot caught on an unearthed rock and she fell hard to the ground. She didn't have to look up to know what was in front of her. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly she tried ignoring the stinging in her eyes. This time as the image of her past rose from the dead she could not stop the onslaught of memories hurled at her.

* * *

"Harry!" A voice yelled, the voice sounded faint to the boys' ears as he shot backward in a shock of white light. He smashed against the jagged stone wall behind him. His glasses feel off his face and fell into the darkness around him. "Harry," the voice screamed again.

"Lumos," a deep male voice whispered, a sparked of bright light shone fro the top of what appeared to be a wand. "Bloody hell he's knocked out cold."

"Ron, be quite! For all we know, they could be here, - waiting," A girl hissed. "We've got to get him out of here."

"Hermione, we can't just leave, we have to know if he's dead," Ron shot back. "We can't just leave him here; this could be our only chance to finally destroy him."

"Take him to St. Mungo's," a voice said softly. The two turned around to face their teacher, McGonagall. "It's alright, he's gone."

"For good then, he's actually gone?" Ron stammered, his eyes widening.

"You seen what happened, Harry did it; you don't see Voldemort standing there still, do you?" McGonagall snapped harshly.

"What about the others?" Hermione dared venture; she almost didn't want to know. McGonagall shifted her eyes down.

"This is neither the time nor place to discuss such things. Take him to St. Mungos's they'll be able to help him. We should be fine here."

* * *

_A glow of red light hit the boy vehemently in the chest, knocking him to the ground. His frosty breath exhaled in a sharp gasp._

"You will meet your end, Potter!" a voice rang out cruelly. Harry desperately tried to grab his wand that had fallen from his fingertips when he had hit the ground.

The figure standing over him laughed. "You cannot defeat me."

The boy's startling green eyes flashed dangerously, and in one fluent motion he tripped his offender while dodging a jet of green light that was shot at him.

"Wanna bet?" he scowled, pointing his wand at the cloaked figure. It flared its snake-like nostrils, muttering something under its breath.

Harry watched as a jet of pure white light shoot out of the tip of his wand. The beam connected inches away from Voldemorts heart.

* * *

"Ahhh!" Harry shot up from the riveting re-enactment of that night.

"Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes, seeing nothing but some shapes. He immediately started searching for his glasses.

"Here," a quiet voice said, handing them to him.

"Is he gone?" Harry groaned after his glasses were in place on his nose.

"I believe so, Harry," the voice said steadily, causing a sparkle to enter his dark eyes. He looked up at the Transfiguration professor in relief.

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron asked fearfully. "You've been out for days." Harry nodded and tried to move, but immediately clutched his side in pain.

"Erm … as right as I can be," he muttered in response.

"Visiting hours are over, immediate family only," the nurse called from behind the group.

"We're the only family he's got," a tired voice challenged.

"Yeah, honestly woman, everyone knows that," an identical one bounced back. "It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Fred, George, this is not the time!" Ginny pleaded.

"Oh honestly, Ginny!" George started.

"George, please!" she begged.

"Everyone knows how you – I mean, how V-Voldemort killed Harry's family, unless they're thick," George said.

Fred eyed the nurse curiously. The blonde blushed, mumbling something about just doing her job and then quickly scuttled out of the room.

"Fred! Georrge!" Ginny exclaimed angrily, sounding like the replica of Mrs. Weasley. They looked down at his feet, blushing to the roots of their hair. "Well, we'd better go. See you later, Harry."

Harry nodded and the group of people shuffled slowly out of the room. Hermione and Ron gave him a pat on the shoulder before hurrying after the clan. Harry watched them go with wary eyes and for some reason the hair on the back of his neck pricked up before he fell back asleep.

* * *

A few days later, Harry lay quietly in his hospital bed, his green eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, horrors from the battle replaying in his mind like a never-ending movie. He couldn't believe how everyone could be celebrating the demise of Voldemort when so many had fallen at his hand. He shook his head angrily; Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard alive, was gone, and everyone was acting like it was the best thing that had ever happened.

"Harry?" a soft murmur came from the doorway,

"Yeah, Hermione?" he answered, not taking his eyes off from the ceiling,

"You okay?" she asked, sitting on the familiar chair beside him.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" he snapped at her. She sighed and pulled on some of her bushy brown hair.

"Harry, I don't underst –"

"Why would you?" he muttered.

"Well, I'm trying to! If you would just talk to me, Harry! I don't know why you're so sad, he's _gone_. Doesn't that mean something? Doesn't that mean it's all going to be okay?" Hermione cried out in frustration.

"It will _never_ be okay, Hermione!" Harry burst out, clutching his side in the process. Hermione bit her lower lip.

"And why not?" she prodded gently.

"Because nothing will ever be the same. Dumbledore's gone, Lupin's gone…" He trailed off, his usually bright eyes dulling over.

"Harry," Hermione started, but stopped since she didn't know how to continue.

"Don't give me that load of bull about me not being able to save everyone that they died for the 'greater good!'" Harry exclaimed bitterly. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Harry, they fought knowing they could die. It doesn't have to be the same as before, but it can be okay for the time being. You can't keep dwelling on what has happened; start thinking of what _is_ happening," Hermione expressed fervently, still trying to think of the right words to tell her friend. "Harry, please! Listen for a second and stop wallowing! They died! But they would not have wanted you to … to be like this!"

"How do you know?" he asked quietly after a time of silence.

"Because, Harry, they spent so much time in their life trying to make you happy." She stared into his eyes.

Harry looked away from her and returned to staring at the ceiling. Hermione sighed.

"She's right, mate," Ron muttered, coming out from the shadows. "There's no use trying to convince yourself otherwise."

Harry again didn't respond. Ron and Hermione looked at each other sadly. "Think about it, mate. We'll come and talk to you later."

"Bye, Harry," Hermione said, walking out of the Hospital room with Ron.

* * *

_Tap, tap, tap._

Harry's eyes opened. Reaching for his black-rimmed glasses on the bedside table, he put them on hastily and glanced around the clean room before looking at the closed window.

_Tap, tap, tap._ The noise came again. He tried propping himself on his elbows, but was unable to and fell back onto his pillows. He sighed and pushed the nurse button. Almost as though she had been waiting right outside the door, Martha Willow, an old medic-witch, came scurrying into his room.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Potter?" she asked kindly, a wide grin appearing on her face.

Harry motioned toward the closed window. Martha walked hastily to it, her wand in hand. She peered out, and a small gasp escaped her thin cracked lips. "It's beautiful," she whispered mostly to herself.

"Well, let it in," Harry snapped impatiently, but after seeing her smile fade he immediately regretted his harshness.

Martha opened the small window, letting a blast of cold air in and a phoenix. "Fawkes!" Harry exclaimed. The bird flew over to him. In its beak, there was a letter addressed to Harry in the familiar handwriting of Albus Dumbledore. Harry took the letter and thanked the phoenix before opening the envelope slowly. His trembling fingers unfolded the letter:

_Harry,  
Since this letter was found, I can see that Sir Quiller has done his job quite nobly. A thought occurred to me: perhaps Sir Quiller would love a promotion to the new Headmistress' scribe. Would you do an old man a favour, and knight him for me? I am also enlightened that Fawkes still has not abandoned those that remain loyal and indeed am very grateful for this letter might never have reached you otherwise. At any rate, I shall now know what happens to all those socks that just happen to go missing in Muggle dryers. But that, my friend, will have to wait till we meet again, for now I can only say that I'll enjoy it because I can forever dance without that annoying popping in my knee that started midway through the last century._

Come to think of it, Harry, I'm in a better position to watch over you now; a bit like Sir Nicholas Claus who loves Muggles so much he freezes time once a year to spread them a bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, unlike him, I shall not watch you at every moment – that would be impossible. I do, after all, have people to annoy and bother now that I am on the other side, so to speak. (Other side of what, I am not certain, but I imagine it would have the consistency of Jell-O. Perhaps the flavour changes for each person. In that case, mine shall be liquorice.) 

Harry stopped reading for a second, a look of amusement clouding his face. Liquorice-flavoured Jell-O?

_Well, Harry, no use beating around the bush. You remember, of course, in the days after Cedric's death when I told you that no spell can reawaken the dead? While this has not changed, rest assured that there are those of us who do not see death as a curse, but as a blessing. Yes, it is possible. Life is such a brief flicker in existence itself, and we must do all we can to better our fellow witches and wizards before we, too, flicker out. You may recall with perhaps a twinkle in your eye, for I believe we were discussing your confiscated well-wishing gifts after your struggle with Quirrel, that I always saw death as an adventure._

While this may sound foreboding and, in the very least, expected Harry, if you hold this parchment in your hands, it means that I have embarked upon this journey. I do not see it as being cruelly taken from this world, but as a means to understand and embrace the new life that lies before me.

You hold in your heart the ability to bring peace to our world, and I wanted you to know that you will never be alone. We (as I am in the best of company here) will always be with you in your heart and in your memory. Honour us by living well, exceeding with grace and heart, and loving without boundaries. Love is your most precious gift, Harry. It has helped you through many hard times and made many happy ones better. Count on your friends to help you. I remember an old Muggle movie that said, 'No man is a failure who has friends.' This is very true in my case, for I am proud to call you my friend. Now it's time to be getting on with this living business. Good luck to you, Harry, until next time.

Your headmaster and friend,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry sighed and lowered the letter, rubbing his eyes. He then noticed Martha was still in the room.

"Everything alright, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded silently.

"For what it's worth, I think that what you have done for us is something you should be proud off. Dumbledore once told me, 'It's not good to dwell on the past and forget to live.'" Harry stared at the old witch in surprise. "Well, I must be off, more patients to see," she said cheerfully, and hobbled out of Harry's room, turning off the light on her way out. Harry lay in complete darkness, slowly digesting what Dumbledore had written. He noted the fact that maybe Hermione was right … maybe it was time for him to start thinking of the present, and not the past.

_Authors Note: Hey, i'm reposting this story again. I hope you all like. It's my rewrite of Everything He Is (my old story). Any questions don't be afraid to ask. Please leave a review and tell me what you liked and of course what you didn't so i can improve. _

_Chapter quote: It's a mistake to think that you can solve any major problems with just potatoes -Douglas Adams_

_laughableblackstorm is my beta, (thank you!) The song quote at the top is from Far Away-Nickleback_


	2. Burrow's Order

_Too long, Too late  
Who was I to make you wait_

* * *

Hermione pushed open the doors to the seventh floor of St. Mungo's, and with hurried steps quickly made her way to the door marked H .J. Potter. With a short tap on the door she entered cautiously, hoping to see Harry in a better mood than he had been the last time she visited.

"Harry?" she asked upon seeing his closed eyes. At once his eyes popped open and he peered at her.

"Oh, hi Hermione. How's it going?" Harry asked sheepishly.

"I'm quite alright," she answered smirking. There was a quick silence before Harry grabbed a piece of parchment from the metal bedside table and handed it to Hermione. The still-bushy haired girl took the letter and sat on the chair closest to Harry, her brown eyes quickly taking in what was written in the letter. Once done she glanced over at Harry. They both shared a look that only best friends could share, and Hermione hopped off the chair and gave Harry a hug, her honey brown hair falling over her shoulders and into Harry's face.

"Ah! Hermione, your hair is attacking me!" he groaned, batting Hermione's hair out of his face. Hermione laughed and sat back down on the chair. "So, how are the Weasleys?" he asked soberly. "They are getting along alright now?"

Hermione shook her head. "They are all quite shaken up from her death, walking around like zombie's half the time. I don't know Harry; they depended on her for everything! It's really hard watching and not knowing what to do. Ginny and I are doing our best to keep food on the table for the men to eat and keeping everything clean, but Mrs. Weasley had a tougher job than she let on. It's hard trying to keep them all in line."

"Well, that, and she could do magic," Harry said, smiling a little. Hermione nodded slightly.

"Harry, it's just hard to watch them like this. The twins still try and spread cheer around; I walked into the living room once looking for Ginny and both of them were just sitting on the couch, looking at this old photo album of their mum. Harry, there were tears in their eyes!" Hermione whispered, a small tear of her own escaping out of the corner of her eye. Harry was silent for a second, silently berating himself for being so self-centered and not noticing that other people were having a hard time too. "I've got to go. Ginny'll be needing help with dinner." With one last hug, Hermione quickly rushed out, the door banging closed behind her. Harry was once again alone.

* * *

"Oh, Hermione, there you are. Could you please go to St. Ottery's and grab some – well something to go with this soup … stew thing?" Ginny stressed, dumping some questionable looking stuff into a pot. 

"Erm … okay, sure," Hermione stated and headed back out the way she came.

"Oi, Hermione!" someone yelled back at her. Hermione spun around to see the twins chasing after her. "Where are you going?" one asked once they caught up with her.

"To the village. Ginny needed something to go with what she is making."

"Oh no."

"That's horribly dreadful." Hermione looked at them with raised eyebrows. "Don't tell her I said this, but –"

"– she's a dreadful cook, I pity the man she marries," the other twin finished in one quick breath. Hermione gave them a look of disapproval.

"Well, good luck then … you're going to need it." They gave her a crooked grin before skipping off in the opposite direction. Hermione shook her head, but somehow had to agree with them. Even with Mrs. Weasley's help, Ginny hadn't received any kind of cooking skill Molly had. Hermione turned back toward the way to the village and continued on.

"HERMIONE!" someone yelled. Hermione sighed and turned around.

"Oh, hi Ron. I'm going down to the village to get something to go with dinner," Hermione said before he asked. Ron gave a little grimace.

"Can I walk with you then?" he asked sheepishly. Hermione snorted.

"Of course you can, Ron." Hermione let out a little snicker. Ron nodded, blushing a little, before falling into step beside Hermione.

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?" Ron asked, giving Hermione a meaningful look.

"Um…" Hermione started, wondering why Ron was asking such a question. "Oh, I don't know, Ron," she said uncomfortably. "What about you?" Ron looked a little off guard for the question.

"I dunno. I suspect that I'll become an Auror, have … have a wonderful wife," Ron said quietly, letting his statement hang between them. Hermione bit down on her lower lip. The two of them walked in silence. Occasionally Hermione glanced at Ron only to see him staring at her. She blushed and looked away, wondering again when Ron had become so bold.

"Oh, here we are," Hermione said with a breath of relief, hoping it would take the uncomfortable silence that had befallen them.

_Bakery  
Open 9:00 am – 9:00 pm_

Hermione opened the door, the smell of fresh bread entering her nose as she breathed deeply.

"Hurry up, Hermione, not everyone likes to inhale food through the nose," Ron said impatiently from outside the door.

"Well, some of us like to enjoy the simple things, Ron," Hermione retorted hotly but went into the store in search for some bread.

"Hermione, what about this?" Ron yelled from across the small store.

"There is no need to yell, Ron, we're like two feet from each other. And no, that's not right. I don't want – well, whatever that is." Ron placed the star-shaped bread back down into the little basket it was in and started browsing again. Every few seconds he would point something out, like heart-shaped bread, circled bread, moon bread, and being normally obnoxious. Hermione grabbed some garlic bread and some cinnamon rolls with icing on top and brought them to the till.

"What about this?"

"No, Ron," Hermione said without even looking.

"You didn't even look."

"I don't have to," Hermione said, exasperated.

"Well, I thought having pretty-looking bread would somehow make people think the food will be good for once," Ron spat back, placing a bag of breadcrumbs down.

"It's not that bad, Ron! If you'd get off your arse off the couch and help, then maybe it wouldn't be so hard!" Hermione fumed, handing the cashier the money owed. The lady gave Hermione a look of sympathy. "Lets go, Ronald, Ginny'll be waiting for us." Hermione briskly left the store, leaving Ron behind.

"I'm not always on the couch!" Ron argued once he caught back up with her.

"Oh yes, and continuously playing quidditch, or fantasizing about that Hufflepuff girl is just so much better!" Hermione yelled tersely, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Ron was silent for a moment.

"The only girl I fantasize about is … well, is you," Ron said, blushing from the root of his hair and quickly looking at his feet. Hermione blushed and glanced over at Ron.

"Really?" she asked quietly. Ron nodded slowly, his blush spreading down his neck. Hermione bit her bottom lip, a slow smile forming on her pink lips. With her empty hand she reached for Ron's and held it tightly. Ron blinked back his surprise and stared at their linked hands for a moment before looking away, turning red once again.

"So, erm … what did you do your first week at our parents home?" Ron asked uneasily.

"Not much, really. I read some, and then my parents got tickets from work to China; something about the Best Employee Award. I'd have loved to go, it would have been fascinating," Hermione said wistfully.

"Who would want to go to China?" Ron announced. "It's supposed to smell funny."

"Oh, honestly Ron. Just because it's stereotyped for smelling bad doesn't meant there won't be loads to learn there. The Hun dynasty, for example, or any of the five dynasties would have been spectacular to learn about." Ron rolled his eyes. This seemed to break the ice and the two chatted comfortably with only a few raised words all the way back to the Burrow.

* * *

"Supper was good, thanks," Ron praised, lifting the last of his stew into his mouth. Ginny beamed. 

"What're you on about, Ron?" George asked.

"I thought it was absolutely dreadful," Fred returned. Ginny burst into tears and ran from the room. Hermione glared at the twins.

"Good job you two, must make you feel real proud of yourself, making your sister cry," Hermione spat at them before running after Ginny.

"Geez," Ron said, scooping his plate up and putting it in the sink. Not only did he put it in the sink, he started the water and washed them as well.

"What's up with you, little Ronnikins?" George asked, watching him clean up after himself with raised eyebrows. Ron didn't seem to hear him and started humming. Fred and George coughed back a laugh and shoved a spoonful of dinner into their mouths to keep from laughing. The two twins finished the meal grimaces on the faces. "Hey, Ron? You'll clean ours too, right?"

"Um…okay," Ron said and took the twins' dishes. He continued humming and cleaning up.

"What's up with him?" Fred asked once they were out of earshot.

"If it were anyone else, I'd say he just got laid," George muttered, and Fred nodded.

"Well, off to see Ginny." A moment of silence

"Yeah…sometimes I wonder how much more moronic we can get." Once at Ginny's door, they gave it a quick knock. Hermione peeked out.

"She doesn't want to talk to you two," she hissed, her eyes flashing.

"We're sorry, Ginny."

"We were only kidding."

"We loved the stew," they yelled into the door, completely ignoring Hermione.

"It was horrid!" sobbed Ginny from the inside of the room. "Like all of them have been! I can't get it right!" Fred and George looked at each other and then at Hermione.

"Remember that one time Mum made that gnome casserole? That was disgusting, she said it was good for us and was a useful way to get rid of them…I swear I've never been the same since."

"Or the time she accidentally put dragon meat in the soup instead of whatever she was going to put in, and Ron had to go to St. Mungo's?" A muffled laugh came from within the room. The twins noticed that Hermione had left and they pushed open the door.

"Here, take one of these," they said together and handed her a yellow candy.

"What is it?" she asked, wiping her tears away.

"Something of our own creation. Don't worry, it isn't anything bad." Ginny took the candy and unwrapped it from its wrapper.

"It better be nothing bad or I'll have your heads." She popped the yellow candy into her mouth, and suddenly warmth spread throughout her whole body and a feeling of contentment steeled within her.

"They are called 'Happy Pills for the Poor Soul in Desperate Need of Some Sun-shiny Warmth to Make Their Rainy Day Seem Brighter.'

* * *

A few weeks passed since that incident, and Ron, Ginny and Hermione were sitting in the living room playing Exploding Snap. 

"Man, I wish Harry were here. He'd offer some real competition," Ron said after beating Hermione for the fifth time. Hermione huffed, but a loud pop averted her attention and she didn't respond.

"Well, that as bloody terrible!"

"Awful."

"Heartbreaking in the worst sort of ways."

"What are you two going on about?" Ron asked as Hermione hid a smile behind her hand.

"Inventory…"

"It'll be the death of us, I'm sure."

"Blimey! It took us two days!"

"Tragic," Ron said chuckling. "Exploding Snap, you two?" Fred and George looked down at the game.

"Honestly, Ron. How about a game of quidditch?"

"Haven't played that all summer. But there are only three people that would play; unfair," Ron said sadly, looking over at Hermione and Ginny.

"Nothing personal, mate, but you seem rather cold-hearted. After all this time you wouldn't think you would just ignore him."

"You have known him for six years, for Merlin's sake." The twins gave their brother a disapproving glare before stepping aside to present the object of their concern: Harry Potter.

"Harry!" Hermione yelped and jumped up from her place beside Ron, giving him a hug.

"Mate, all right?" Ron asked, getting up from the couch.

"Yeah, and you?"

"Never better," Ron said, glancing at Hermione and making her blush. The twins caught it and they jeered.

"Oh, it looks like Ronnikins and Hermit here have a long awaited announcement to make," Fred said in a sugar-sweet voice while grabbing the two and giving them a huge bear hug.

"Ger'off me!" Ron said, pushing Fred away from him. Hermione stepped out of Fred's embrace, still blushing.

"Well?" Ginny said, peering at the two.

"Um…well, it isn't official, but…" Ginny squealed and dove at Hermione.

"I always wanted a sister!" she proclaimed cheerfully.

"About time, mate," Harry said laughing.

"What's all this racket going on down here?" a voice boomed from the doorway to the living room. The group turned and saw Mr. Weasley. They all were a little shocked; they hadn't seen him downstairs from his room in quite some time.

"Hey dad, Ron and Hermione finally hooked up," Ginny, the first to recover, commented. Mr. Weasley gave a weak smile.

"Congratulations," he said without much emotion.

"Do you want some tea?" she asked hopefully. He nodded and went to the kitchen. Ginny poured him a cup of tea and placed some biscuits on a plate in front of him.

"We're off to go play quidditch," Fred shouted from the living room. With a bang of the front door the four boys were gone.

"You don't have to hover over me, Ginny; I'm quite fine on my own. Why don't you and Hermione go into the village?" Mr. Weasley suggested, looking deep into the contents of the tea.

"You sure, dad?" Ginny asked. He nodded, absently twirling the spoon around in his tea. "All right then, we'll be back later." Ginny walked out of the kitchen and found Hermione sitting in the armchair by the fire with her nose stuck in a book. She looked up when Ginny entered.

"Dad said we should go to the village."

"Sure, if we could stop at the bookstore there are a couple books I wanted to pick up before the school year."

"And I want all the juicy details about you and Ron," Ginny giggled. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"There really aren't many, Ginny…" Hermione started, but Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her out of the Burrow and down the path to the village. They walked in silence for a few moments before Ginny tugged on Hermione's arm.

"So?" Ginny prompted.

"Well, I don't know; it just sort of happened," Hermione said getting flustered.

"Ah, Hermione, you've been hanging around boys too long. When did it happen?"

"A few weeks," Hermione answered simply. Ginny sighed. "What?" Hermione asked, looking confused. "I told you when."

"Just tell me everything: when, how, why, what exactly went down. Every little detail you can think of. How did you feel? Anything! It's time I taught you to be a girl for once and not always in your 'lets-save-the-world-from-utter-demolishment' mode."

"Demolishment isn't a word," Hermione corrected. Ginny pouted.

"Anyway, details. I will not let you sleep until I have everything." Hermione sighed, and all the way to the tiny village she retold exactly what had happened.

"So, have you kissed?" Ginny asked. Hermione could tell by her eyes that that was the thing she really wanted to know.

"Well, no," Hermione replied and opened the door to Loa's Bookstore and walked in. The bell overhead rang at their entrance.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" a middle-aged woman with tinted glasses asked from behind the counter.

"Hello. I was wondering; do you perhaps have any Michael Connelly books?" Hermione asked pleasantly.

"Why, yes we do. If you would come with me I'll show you to them." The lady showed Hermione and Ginny to the back and pointed out a row of books all written by Michael Connelly.

"Thank you," Hermione said and started browsing. "Oh!" she gasped and picked up a book. "City of Bones! I've been looking everywhere for this one!"

"City of Bones, Hermione? I never expected you to…erm…be into that."

"Michael Connelly is an amazing writer. Hear, listen to the back: 'On New Year's Day, a dog finds a bone in the Hollywood Hills—and unearths a murder committed more than twenty years earlier. It's a cold case, but for Detective Harry Bosch it stirs up memories of his childhood as an orphan. He can't let it go. As the investigation takes Bosch deeper into the past, a beautiful rookie cop brings him alive to the present.' There's some more too it, but doesn't that little part sound thrilling? Not to mention, as I said before, that Connelly is an excellent author. One of the best out there, I suspect," Hermione gushed, staring at the book as if it where her best friend. "It's supposed to be surefooted…invigorating storytelling…a wrought maze…sensational and haunting; well, according to the _London Times_, anyhow." Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Sounds spectacular," Ginny said. "Is that all you wanted?"

"No…I just want to browse around now. Hopefully a couple more books will catch my eye." Hermione started scanning the titles with Ginny trailing behind.

About an hour later, Ginny was dragging her feet.

"Hermione!" she whined.

"Okay, okay. I'll just these," Hermione said pointing to five thick books and carrying them to the till.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Oh yes, your bookstore is lovely," Hermione commented. "There is such a selection."

"Thank you! My husband and I are thinking about adding a small tea room onto it in the corner there." The women pointed to a dusty corner right by the window.

"That would be nice it would be right cozy. I don't think I would be able to stay out of here if you did," Hermione declared.

"That comes to thirty-two pounds, please." Hermione gave the lady the money, wished her a good day, and then the Ginny and her were one their way.

"So, anyway, as we were talking about before; do you want to kiss him?" Ginny asked, looking at Hermione curiously.

"Ginny, this is your brother! Why do you want to know this?" Hermione asked.

"Because you're my friend, and I don't care if you want to kiss him," Ginny huffed. "So, do you?"

"Well," Hermione blushed.

"It's either you do or you don't," Ginny said laughing.

"Well, yeah, he is sort of my boyfriend," Hermione said, but a nagging voice kept ringing in her head. Did she really want to kiss him? Did she want her best friend's lips on her own?

Ginny giggled. "Ron and Hermione, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Ginny taunted. Hermione rolled her eyes and continued walking.

"Was there anything you wanted to get?" Hermione asked.

"No," Ginny said. "We probably should be getting back, though." Hermione nodded and the two headed off in the direction of The Burrow.

* * *

"Hey, you two, grab some brooms and get up here!" one of the twins yelled down at them. Ginny smiled slightly. 

"Be right there!" she yelled back. "You coming, Hermione?"

"No!" Hermione almost screeched. "I mean…No, I'll just sit and watch. I'm dying to start reading City of Bones."

"Alright then," Ginny said and ran to the broom shed and grabbed a broom and shot up into the sky. Hermione shuddered; she looked around and found a nice piece of green grass, and sitting down, she put her bag of books beside her. For a few minuets she read undisturbed.

"Come on, Hermione!" someone inquired right beside her. She jumped and stared into the brown eyes of a twin.

"I would rather not," she stated and turned back to her book.

"Don't tell me; the Hermione know-it-all bookworm-to-the-end Granger is afraid of heights?" the twin teased.

"I'm not…I just don't see anything fun in flying about like maniacs."

"Oh really?" Hermione nodded determinedly, staring at her book. "Oi, Freddie boy? Hermit doesn't think flying is fun."

"Aye, too bad for her then, she sure is missing something," Fred said as he passed by, chasing the Quaffle.

"Well, good day to you." George rose back up into the air after giving her a smile of innocence. Hermione sighed. That was close, she thought. Soon she was back enthralled into the tale of Harry Bosch.

"AHHH!" Hermione screamed as someone scooped her up onto his or her broom. "Let me go, let me down! Right now!" she demanded, struggling for all she was worth. Her book fell from her hands onto the ground. She watched as the ground got farther and farther away. "No, let me down! Please!" she pleaded with her captor. She turned to see George smirking at her. "Mr. Weasley, I demand to be placed back on the ground," Hermione cried crankily.

"But I'm showing you how much fun flying is. Hold tight," George said and did a quick flip. Hermione screamed a little and pulled herself closer to George.

"Please, George put me down," she begged, a slight whimper had entered her voice.

"Nope." She clung tighter to the prankster and closed her eyes, slowly counting to ten. She started struggling again. "You're only going to get yourself killed if you do that," he stated, looking down at her. Her fiery chocolate brown eyes met his twinkling ones.

She glared at him. "You know glaring won't work, right?" he said smirking. Hermione blushed slightly before looking away. It was then that she noticed how close she was to her boyfriend's brother. She was pressed tightly against his chest and his arms were around her back holding onto the broom. She sighed, and tried to get herself to stop trembling from the height she was at.

"George, I honestly would do anything if you would just get me back on the ground this instant."

"Admit that you're afraid of heights."

"I am not afraid of heights, I would just rather not be in such close proximity to my best friend's annoying older brother," she yelled at him. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Ah…" he said smirking, "I get it now … you're having a hard time keeping your hands off me," he winked to her. "Go ahead – by all means, grasp me tighter."

Hermione blushed and let go of the material she had balled up in her fist. In the process of doing so she wobbled and automatically clung to George again. He laughed and went into a maniac dive. Hermione screamed and squeezed her eyes shut while pressing her head into George's chest. He pulled out of the dive a few meters above ground. "See, nothing to be scared of."

"George! What are you doing to her! Let her go!" someone screamed from above. Ron appeared in the line of vision, his eyes flaming.

"Just showing her how to fly, Ickle Ronnikins," George said.

"Don't call me that!" Ron bellowed. George smirked.

"Looks like Ron's in a tizzy." Fred said, arriving at the scene with a huge grin plastered across his face.

"I am not in a tizzy!" he bellowed again. Fred snorted.

"If that's not a tizzy, then I don't know what is."

"Leave her alone," Ron muttered, glaring at George.

"Or what? You'll hex me?" George smirked as he floated above the ground, Hermione still right in front of him.

"Yes!" Ron said, pulling out his wand.

"Got me shaking in my boots, mate."

Hermione hit her head with her hand. "I'm so stupid!" she muttered.

"What's that, love?" George asked, peering at her.

"Ron can't hex you, but I can!" she exclaimed. She grabbed her wand and pointed it at George. "Now fly me to the ground nice and slowly," she commanded. George sighed and landed on the ground.

"You take the fun otta everything," he whined. Hermione just glared at him before hopping off the broom. Still trembling slightly, she stuck her wand back in her pocket.

"Now if you don't mind, I'm going back to the house," Hermione replied hotly before stalking back to the house. George shrugged and zoomed back into the air. The game continued for a few more minutes before Ron stopped.

"Who's that coming?" he asked, hovering in the air with the quaffle in his hands.

"I dunno, looks like some of the Order and dad," Fred said, coming up beside Ron.

"And Hermione trailing behind." Harry smirked at his best friend while moving to catch up to the group.

"Best see what they want." George, Fred, Harry, Ron, and Ginny flew down to the group of people.

"Ah, Tonks! Long time no see," George said, swooping Tonks up in a big bear hug.

"As much as I'd love to play games with you, Fred – or is it George? – Oh, never mind. There's been an attack in Diagon Alley."

_Authors Note- why hello fellow minions. Another chapter i have decieded to add to this creation of mine.  
Please leave a review. they are all appreiated. be as honest as you can._  
**I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.  
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_Disclaimer: For years i had tricked myself into thinking that maybe i had found the key to world domination and had finally hacked into stealing JKR's identity. then i realized it was all an illusion and i woke up in a looney bin. Alas i do not own anything._


	3. Room Five O Six

. _Just one chance  
Just one breath_

* * *

"I cannot believe they made us stay!" Hermione fumed while pacing the living room.

"Maybe they thought we'd get in the way?" Ginny suggested. Hermione turned to her and groaned.

"It's just so annoying! We could have helped! Just because we're girls we have to stay and 'fend for the houses.' Honestly!" Hermione dropped herself into an armchair and let out a sigh.

"Chess?" Ginny asked after a few minutes. Hermione shrugged – she wasn't particularly fond of the game, but maybe it would get her mind off the attack.

Four hours and five games later, Hermione lay on the floor, staring at her pieces in deep concentration.

"Hermione, you aren't going to win," Ginny giggled. "I mean honestly, it usually takes more than an hour to play one game, where as we're done in only half an hour." Hermione glared at Ginny.

"I will win this one."

"Sure you will. It doesn't help that your pieces don't trust you at all," Ginny said, looking at the board. She almost cracked up when the bishop yelled at Hermione to hurry up because it wouldn't matter where they went – they'd loose anyway.

"Shut it, Mr. Bishop. I have hope, when you are a bunch of baboons who know nothing!" Hermione cried and told her knight to move to E5.

"Bad move, Hermione. Queen to E5 … checkmate," Ginny grinned.

"That's it, I give up!" Hermione howled.

"And good thinking, too," someone said from behind them. Hermione whirled around with her wand held high.

"Ron!" she cried and jumped into his arms. "Where is everyone?" she asked, noticing nobody else was with him.

"Fred got sent to St Mungo's 'cause he got cursed pretty badly. I was sent to get you two," he replied soberly.

"Oh gosh, that's horrible! You're okay though, right?" He nodded.

"Just a few scratches," he muttered blushing. "No one else got seriously injured; at least, nothing the medic-witches couldn't fix in a few minutes. Fred, on the other hand … I don't know how long he'll be out for."

"Well, lets go. Here's the floo powder."

Hermione grabbed it and shouted, "St. Mungo's!" She flew out of site and landed with a humph. She looked around, and saw white walls and the reception desk. She walked up to it.

"Which floor is Fred Weasley on?" she asked.

"Fourth Floor: Spell Damage, room 506," the nurse replied, looking in a folder.  
Hermione smiled and thanked the witch before turning toward the elevators.

"Hey Hermione, wait up," she heard someone call after her. She turned around to see Ginny and Ron chasing her.

"Oh, sorry." She blushed and waited for them.

"How's he doing?" Ginny asked once they had reached his room.

"The Healers say he'll live," Mr. Weasley said from his spot beside the bed. "They just aren't sure how long it'll take for him to recuperate, or … or when he gets his memory back." Arthur choked, and a few stray tears fell down his old cheeks. Ginny sidled up to her father and put her arm around him.

"He'll make it, dad. He's a Weasley twin for Merlin's sake, of course he'll be back to normal."

"We can only hope," Harry said, staring at Fred's almost lifeless body.

"What hit him anyway?" Hermione asked.

"No one knows yet, some kind of weird new curse," George said bitterly. Hermione whipped around, and for the first time noticed George in the room. He was slumped in the corner with a grim frown on his face. Never had she seen him look so down, not even when he found out his mum was dead.

She bit her lower lip and turned away and felt someone grab her arm. She needn't look; she could feel Ron's course hand wrap around her own. She frowned slightly –she had always imagined holding hands with Ron to be different, like getting shocks every time he touched her. But that hadn't happened yet.

_I suppose I'm just foolish in believing all those love stories my mum used to read to me, she thought, because this is definitely not like that at all … it's kind of weird and awkward and sort of embarrassing at the same time._

"What's wrong?" he asked her, his breath tickling her ear. No shivers, she noticed.

"Nothing." She smiled brightly at him and squeezed his hand.

"Visiting hours are over." Hermione turned to see the same medic-witch as the one that Fred had told off before. She looked quite timid standing in the doorway, waiting for some sort of response.

"Alright, we'll be back later." The group filled out. George was the last to leave and he walked a little apart from everyone else, his head down, and for once his gleaming eyes were dull. Hermione looked back and sighed.

"I'm worried about George," she whispered to Ron. He turned around to look at his brother.

"Ah, he'll get over it, he's just worried he'll loose his twin. Don't worry about him," Ron dismissed. Hermione looked back one more time before listening to what Ron was talking about … Quidditch. She rolled her eyes.

* * *

The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Tonks, and a few other Order members sat around the table at the burrow, looking quite sober.

"Why would they attack? You'd think they'd lie low or try and come back to the light, considering You-Know-Who is dead," Mr. Weasley stated.

"They are probably trying to make a statement or something," Tonks replied.

"One would have to think that maybe they are under orders from a new Dark Lord," Snape muttered.

"Oh, come now, Severus, you don't actually believe that a new Dark Lord is already in the making, do you?"

"I wouldn't know I got thrown out of the inner circle for a quirky little mistake I made. I should not have shot down Goyle's father," Snape grumbled.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, it was either that or let that poor first year die."

"We probably will never know why they chose to attack. But we must be on our toes and make sure the public knows that this won't happen again, just so that they can still have that figment of being safe," Shacklebolt said. "But I must be off, lots of business to attend to." The meeting adjourned and the Order members started leaving.

"Thanks for letting us use you house, Arthur, since the Order headquarters are out of use at the moment," Tonks said as she grabbed her jacket. The hook caught on the arm of the jacket, bringing it slamming to the ground. "Oh sorry," she muttered and went to pick it up.

"Oh, don't worry about it, I'll have one of my boys pick it up," Mr. Weasley said in a hurry.

"I don't mind," Tonks said, and picked up the jacket hanger and put it right. She waved her hand, and with a pop she was gone.

"We probably should owl Charlie and Bill and tell them what happened," Ginny said from behind her father.

"Yeah, that would be a good idea," Mr. Weasley sighed. "But they needn't come, nothing serious happened. Diagon Alley is still standing, and there were only injuries that happened, no deaths, fortunately."

"They still might want to know that their brother is in the hospital though," Ginny said and left the room.

"Hey Ginny!" someone called from the living room as she waked by it. "Our letters came." Hermione handed Ginny her letter.

"I wonder when we'll be able to go to Diagon Alley to get our supplies," Ginny mused, looking at her list of stuff. When she heard no response from Hermione she looked over at her friend. Hermione was staring at the letter her eyes looked slightly glazed over in disbelief. In her hand there was a small glittering object. "What is it?" Ginny asked coming up to Hermione.

"I got Head Girl!" Hermione squealed suddenly, "I can't believe they gave it to me!" The noise brought Harry and Ron in from the kitchen. They gave Ginny a questioning look.

"Surprisingly Hermione got Head Girl, such a shocker that one." Ginny said sarcastically rolling her eyes. Hermione immediately frowned.

"There is plenty girls that are more qualified for this responsibility. "Take Morag for instance, she has had a clean record to boot," Hermione said seriously. "I was convinced they would give it to her." The other three teenagers looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows.

"Who's Morag?" Ron finally asked stupidly. Hermione let out a huff.

"Oh honestly Ron, she's that tall Ravenclaw girl, you and Harry always point that out." A look of dawning crossed his face.

"So that's who she is!" Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to her letter once again to reread it to see if it was real. After a few minuets of silence as the foursome read their letters Hermione looked up.

"Where's George?" Hermione asked suddenly her voice was laced with worry.

"I think he went back to his and Fred's flat after the meeting was over," Ginny responded without looking up from her letter. Hermione nodded slightly, she hoped he was okay.

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" Ron asked. Hermione and Ginny groaned.

"Sure," Harry said. The two boys crowded around the table and set up the game, while Hermione grabbed her book to read. The group stayed like that well into the night before Mr. Weasley came and demanded that they go to bed.

"Here dad," Ginny said, handing him a note. "Its for Charlie and Bill." The two girls climbed up the stairs to Ginny's room.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked once they were lying in bed.

"Yeah?"

"Does Harry every talk about me?" Ginny turned to face Hermione her eyes curious.

"Not really, why?"

"I don't know, just curious," Ginny said disappointedly.

"You fancy Harry!" Hermione squeaked.

"Yes, but keep it down or they'll hear you." Hermione gave Ginny the look that clearly said they were four floors above the girls, and that they aren't going to hear. Ginny sighed. "He'll never think of me more than his best mate's little sister, will he?"

"You never know, Gin, he doesn't talk about that stuff to me, and I doubt he would talk about it to Ron either … actually, he definitely wouldn't tell Ron, he might just punch him," Hermione giggled.

"Well, goodnight, Hermione."

"'Night."

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes and ran her hand through her messy mat of hair. Today was the day they were heading into Diagon Alley to collect their supplies. It had been a week since the attack and everyone thought it would be fine to go. Hermione glanced over at Ginny to see her wrapped up in her blankets, still snoring away. Hermione laughed quietly before getting up and going to the towel closet to grab one. She looked in and grabbed her favourite one, a big fluffy purple towel. She made her way to the bathroom and opened the door.

"Whoa … Hermione!"

"Um … I'm sorry, George," Hermione stuttered, blushing to the roots of her hair. She hadn't expected to see her best friends brother barely clad in a towel. "I'll leave." She turned and was closing the door when George snickered.

"I knew you wanted to see me with my shirt off, Granger, I just didn't know you wanted it that bad." If possible, Hermione blushed harder and quickly shut the door behind her.

"Why?" she mumbled to herself, as she leaned against the wall outside the bathroom waiting for her turn. A few minuets later George opened the door, the towel securely wrapped around his waist. He grinned at Hermione.

"'Tis all yours, love," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. She blushed even more.

"How's Fred?" she asked, trying to look anywhere but at his chest.

"They say he's doing better. Melissa (that's that blonde medic-witch Fred told off when Harry was in the hospital) said he should be coming out of his coma soon. And they are very hopeful that his memory is still in tact," George said, a smile appearing on his face, a real one, not one which screamed 'I-just-played-a-prank-and-now-you're-in-for-it.' Hermione nodded, happy that George wouldn't be looking so glum anymore. It didn't suit him.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why are you here? Don't you have like-" Hermione blushed. "Well, one at your flat you could use instead?"

George smirked; he did that a lot, Hermione noted. He smirked a lot, where as Fred grinned devilishly. Not that there is much of a difference-nor was she noticing such things about him either.

"Why, my dear young lass, I'm astonished that you care. For some reason something told me in a dream last night that the place I must take a shower is here. I didn't know why then, but now it's looking pretty clear why." George said with an air of mystery to him. Hermione sighed in exasperation. "It's destiny Hermione, that you and me are meant to be. Seeing you this morning has finally made that clear to me," George said offhandedly, grinning like a schoolboy. Hermione rubbed her eyes, "or maybe it was because Fred and I forgot to pay some bills this month," George muttered thoughtfully rubbing his chin appearing to be deep in thought.

"Sure George, whatever you say," Hermione said with a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. She then entered the bathroom.

"I'm right here if you need some company!" George yelled in after her as he heard the door lock.

* * *

"Come on everyone, grab some floo powder," Mr. Weasley called. "Ginny, you first."

Ginny grabbed hers and shot up the chimney.

Soon, everyone was gone but Arthur himself. "Now it's our turn Mol –" He stopped. "No," he muttered, "Molly isn't here anymore."

He stepped alone into the fireplace and called out, "Diagon Alley!" He fell from the fireplace into the Leaky Cauldron. "Right. Everyone here?" he asked, counting the heads. "Right then, lets go, Gringotts is the first stop."

The rest of the day consisted of getting everyone's supplies and ogling the new flying broom.

"Oh Hermione, look, you got a letter," Ginny said. "It's from your parents."

Hermione smiled and opened the envelope. After a few minutes, she looked up.

"I have to go home for the last week of holidays, my parents want to spend time with me and tell me how their trip was."

"Aw, that means you have to leave today!" Ginny whined. "I'll be stuck with my brothers the whole time!" Hermione smiled apologetically and took out her wand and tapped the bricks to get back into the Leaky Cauldron.

_Authors Note: Thank you all for you wonderful support and encouragment. It really means a lot to me. Here is the newest edition. I truly hope it is to your liking.  
**Even he, to whom most things that most people would think were pretty smart were pretty dumb, thought it was pretty smart.  
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